


Epiphany

by cvioleta



Series: Perspective [2]
Category: Lucifer (Comic), Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blasphemy, Eventual Fluff, F/M, Heaven, Hell, Mazifer, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-02 06:04:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16299521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cvioleta/pseuds/cvioleta
Summary: Upon request, what happened after Clarity. If you haven't read Clarity, start with that or this won't make sense!





	Epiphany

                It was not unusual for humans to spend their entire lives waiting for things to be over.  They sat in traffic, waiting to get to work.  They worked, watching the clock and waiting for it to be over. They sat in traffic again. They worked out, distracting themselves with music and waiting for the timer on the treadmill to tell them that they’d suffered enough.  They waited until their children were asleep and they could have some time for themselves.  By then, they were so tired that they fell asleep – and the cycle repeated itself.

                Lucifer knew that, but it was not a state of mind he had ever experienced before.  As the Devil, he had lived for millennia – but it had mostly been, well, one big party.  An endless sea of entertainment.  No, Hell never had nightclubs, but once he had adjusted to living there and met Maze, they’d had a good time torturing the wicked, fighting off the occasional uprising from renegade demons and indulging themselves in every vice imaginable.  Hell hadn’t been so bad at all, back then.

                These days, it was different.  Despite being the Lord of Hell, Lucifer was as tortured as any of its residents.  He forced himself to perform his duties flawlessly.  If his father wanted him to be Lord of Hell, he would be employee of the month if that put him into his father’s good graces.  He knew he was being watched, so he concentrated on being the most obedient of sons, praying every day that his father would notice.  At any rate, it kept him busy, and distracted enough not to throw himself into a fiery pit in his depression.

                Time crawled by, and he still heard nothing.

* * *

                Amenadiel considered for a moment the sheer audacity of what he was doing.  Not only was he bringing a demon through the gates of Heaven, but the demon who had corrupted him, caused his own fall from grace in the eyes of his father.  He feared his father’s wrath, but the look he’d seen in his brother’s eyes drove him onward.  He’d seen his brother angry before.  He’d seen him heartbroken.  But he’d never seen the utter emptiness he’d seen when Lucifer begged him for his help. 

                Not that Amenadiel hadn’t seen that look before.   He’d seen it on the face of a drunk driver who had backed over his own young son in his front yard when he missed the driveway.  He’d seen it on the faces of drug addicts who’d woken from a bender to discover they hadn’t fed their baby in days. That look had been in the eyes of the pilot who’d discovered that the terrorist hideout he’d dropped a bomb on was a village full of innocents.  Death was universally acknowledged to be a state from which there was no return.  There had been one resurrection, a display both Amenadiel and his brother privately thought of as a party trick and a manipulation to keep the humans in line, both doubting that the individual in question had ever been truly dead.  To be sure, the line was a bit blurred at best; surgeons re-started hearts, flatlining patients sometimes gasped and came back.  Sometimes pulled by divine strings – sometimes by the force of their own will.  But for the most part, the dead staying dead was an absolute rule of the universe, the disposition of the soul up to his father, and if there was no soul, there was simply an ending.  Demons were universally acknowledged to lack souls, but still – he had to try. 

                He was both unsettled and relieved when he reached the gates of the Silver City, looking as luminous as ever.  It was evening there, and their glow could be seen from far away, a divine version of Las Vegas in the middle of infinite darkness.  After holding back time and flying this distance, Amenadiel didn’t have the energy left to explain or argue when Saint Peter instinctively held up his hand to block him from entry.  The old man looked like he did not quite believe his eyes.

                “You can’t bring that in here!” Peter protested adamantly. His robes, pale blue in daylight, seemed to reflect the lights of the gates and make him spectral in appearance.  

                Amenadiel gathered himself, his anger singing through him. “You do not give orders to me. Step aside.”

                “Your father-“

                “I said step aside, old man!”   Amenadiel elbowed Peter out of his way and the old man gasped, more at the lack of respect than at the physical contact.  He carried Maze through the gates and began the long walk to the castle.  Why were castles always on hills, even here, in the Silver City?  Like the gate, it glistened, luminescent in the dark.  He remembered he had his brother to thank for the stars that lit his way, and that thought brought a smile to his face despite the gravity of the circumstances. 

_Lucifer had always been a creature of extremes.  He’d created great beauty – and great destruction.  He’d often doled out punishments that Amenadiel thought extreme.  Luci liked to believe that he was nothing like his father, but that wasn’t true.  They both had a flair for the dramatic – everyone_ else _privately thought the plagues were overkill.  They both loved to win, but not over an opponent that didn’t put up a good fight, and in similar fashion, both were attracted to volatile women that were unafraid to challenge even the Almighty or the Lord of Hell._

                That said, Amenadiel had never thought Lucifer was in love with Maze.  He’d have bet all the ash in Hell that his brother was primarily in love with himself.  He himself been more aware of how Maze was feeling than Luci, who was spectacularly self-absorbed.  Despite knowing full well that all of his own interactions with her had been manipulations on Maze’s part, Amenadiel had a soft spot for her, and it was only in the last days of her life that he’d realized that her loyalty to Luci wasn’t just a matter of a demon who was dedicated in performing as assigned.  She loved him, and had forever, never really expecting him to return it, yet secure in the belief that their life together would not change.  It must have been horrific for her to watch him obsess over Chloe, to blatantly show his preference for a mundane and human life over all of the extreme wonders he’d lived over millennia with Maze. Worse yet, Lucifer seemed to take it as a given that Maze would step aside, yet never leave him, as he played out his fantasy of a human life with another woman and her child.

                What must it be like, to be loved like that?  Amenadiel felt a sudden flash of jealousy that made him ashamed. He couldn’t be jealous of Luci now. He knew that his brother knew – too late – the depth of his own feelings for Maze, and it had torn his heart out that she died believing he didn’t care and he might never have a chance to make things right. 

                Amenadiel reached the steps and paused.  His father emerged at the top, his arms crossed, looking as he always seemed to – disappointed.  He had chosen not to make himself fully visible; he appeared in a wraithlike state, transparent, indicating that he was in a difficult mood.  Amenadiel knew there was no need for explanations, not with a dead demon in his arms.  And as usual, his father saw no need for so much as a greeting.

                “Why should I grant this?”  The question was emotionless, the question of an impartial judge, not a loving father.  “You are aware it is unprecedented.”

                “Lucifer is in Hell. He will rule as you wish.”

                “He will rule as I wish, _because_ I wish.”

                Amenadiel inclined his head, reminding himself that he must behave with the utmost respect, despite the fact that he bristled at their father’s words as much as Luci would have done had he been present to hear them.   “A man who chooses his job does better work than a man with a gun to his head,” he suggested.

                Suddenly his father laughed, startling him.  “Your brother is almost beyond _my_ understanding. A demon?  Really?  This is what matters to him, over every grand and glorious thing I gave him?”  His scorn was evident.  He hadn’t created demons to be taken seriously or as anything at all. They were expendable staff, useful for dirty jobs and suicide missions.  The mere idea that his divine, rebellious son would fall into lockstep to get a demon back was _absurd_.

                Amenadiel sighed.  “You’re getting what you want. What you’ve wanted for years.”

                “You think five years is of any consequence, to me?”  

                It was difficult not to back down when confronted with his father's disapproval and booming voice, but Amenadiel had not come this far to give up easily.   “I think -  I think, you don’t just want him to be obedient, but obedient and miserable.”

                The ground shook as his father’s anger flowed through the city like an electrical surge.  “Do not tell me what I want!”

                Amenadiel took a deep breath and bent down to lay Maze gently at his father’s feet.  “Lucifer has lost his family.  He has lost his home.  He has lost his human friends and willingly given up his freedom.  He will rule as you wish, for all eternity, and merely asks for his servant back.  I ask, on his behalf.”

                His father’s reaction was dismissive.  “He has plenty of servants in Hell.  No, what you are asking me to do is enable my son’s unhealthy attachment to a demon.  I cannot do that.”

                Suddenly, Amenadiel had an idea.  “Put your hand on her, and tell me that she is but a soulless demon.  And if you cannot, grant her the status she rightfully deserves.  Agreed?”

                “Agreed,” God answered flippantly, supremely unconcerned that he would learn anything about the demon from laying hands on her that he did not already know. 

                But when he placed his hand on her forehead, over the bullet hole, he was struck with a panoply of images he never expected.  To be sure, there were many that he did expect – truly, this demon had proven her worth as a torturer.  But the strongest images were those of his son, seen through the eyes of someone who loved him at a level God could not fathom.  A demon should not have even had this level of consciousness or understanding.  He shook his head slightly, confused at what he had seen.  It should not be possible, yet it was even _less_ possible that he was incorrect.  He was never incorrect, after all. 

                The solution came to him quickly.  He concluded that he had, on this particular occasion, created a creature that was not quite demon and not quite angel. What a marvelous thing, a hybrid between the worlds, capable of playing either role and most certainly a divine being. He had, as usual, outdone himself.  Such a unique creation must surely be preserved. 

                Amenadiel tried not to gasp out loud when he saw his father’s form fully materialize as golden light filled him.  He felt the warmth of the light envelop him as his father placed both hands on Maze’s forehead, and when he lifted them off, it was as smooth and perfect as it had been that morning.  She opened her eyes and immediately leapt to her feet in a fighting stance, confused and on edge.  When she saw the glowing figure in front of her, her mouth fell open but she had the presence of mind to fall to her knees and bow her head in respect.

                “You may rise,” God told her, and she did, her eyes wide and amazed.  “Amenadiel will take you home.  I grant you eternal life, so long as you remain loyal to Lucifer and serve him all of your days.”

                Maze was trembling on her feet, and Amenadiel was shocked to see that her eyes were wide with tears.   “I would never leave my Lord,” she said simply.

                God nodded and waved dismissively at Amenadiel before his visual form disintegrated and he was gone.

                _What just happened here?_ Amenadiel’s mind was racing but he remembered the old adage about not inspecting the teeth of a gift horse too closely.  He would have to call Azrael when he got back to earth and get her perspective.  For now, he just put an arm around Maze’s shoulders.

                “Come on.  Let’s get you home.”

* * *

                Lucifer lay on his chaise in front of the fire in his suite.  He’d forgotten during his sojourn in sunny California just how cold and damp Hell could be at night.  He stared into the flames, wondering if he’d been here a week or a year?  Time was interminable in Hell, every day the same routine, every night spent thinking about his life on earth and what he could have done differently. Oh, so many things.  He would obsess about those five years until he finally fell asleep, praying for a night without the nightmares about his last day on earth that plagued him. 

                His eyes were half closed as he baked in the heat from the fire like a cat on a sunny windowsill.  Lucifer was almost asleep when movement caught his eye. He opened his eyes and immediately sat up, reminding himself he was most likely having a dream – or that his father was sending visions to terrorize him, even more likely.

                Maze stood before him, not as he last remembered her, but what seemed like an earlier version, clad in the dark red hooded robe that they all wore when outside their chambers in Hell, to protect them from the dirt and ash that flowed freely through the air.  She pulled the hood back to show her face, which had resumed its unearthly presentation, half of it stripped of flesh, the pale sinews glowing. 

                Lucifer leaned forward, staring. Even if she was not real, he was grateful for another look at her.  He stood up, wondering if the apparition would disappear if he dared to touch it.  Slowly, he reached out to touch her face on the demon side. She did not disappear and smiled at him.

                “Maze?” he asked, his voice so quiet it barely registered, as though he was afraid he might wake himself up.  “Is this real?” 

                It broke her heart how shaky he sounded, and at the same time filled her with hope that he had truly been this distraught without her. 

                “I’m here, Lucifer,” she assured him and stepped, unhesitating, into his arms. Had they ever… _hugged_ before?  She did not think so, not in all the thousands of years they had been together.  It felt better than she had thought it would and she closed her eyes for a moment until she remembered everything that had happened on Earth, and stepped back, shaking off his arms.  He looked confused and alarmed.

                “Mazie…what’s wrong?”

                She collected herself, angry at the feeling of tears in her eyes.  She had to remember she had been returned to him as his demon, not necessarily anything more.  As grateful as she was to be back, she could not take another disappointment.  So she braced herself, and asked the question that she feared most.

                “Are we going back to Earth?” she asked.

                He shook his head.  “No. Not ever again.”

                She took that in for a moment.  “Why not?”

Lucifer still looked confused, and then remembered that she had no reason to know what had happened.  “I made a deal – I told Amenadiel to tell my Dad, I’d stay in Hell if he brought you back.”

                “You chose –“  Maze broke off, not quite believing it.  “So if you had done nothing…”  She couldn’t finish the sentence.  For years, he had chosen Earth, chosen Chloe, ignored her pleas to return home.  She took a deep breath and asked, afraid of the answer but unwilling to ignore the question.  “Why now?”

                “I never thought I had to choose. You never cared before what I did, _who_ I did,” he noted, with a bit of his old sarcastic grin coming through. “I would never, ever have sacrificed the rest of eternity with you for it,” he told her. 

                “I don’t care who you sleep with, Lucifer, you know that.  It was your loyalty being gone...”  Again, Maze trailed off, still not comfortable with revealing too much.

                “And yet you saved me.”  He looked down.  “I didn’t deserve to be saved.” 

                “Just doing my job.”  She didn't realize the edge of bitterness in her voice, but Lucifer heard it immediately and cringed.  How had he been so cruel to her?  Was he that afraid of the truth?  

                He shook his head.  “No. No, you weren’t. I know that.”  Lucifer put his hands on her shoulders.  “I know that you saved me because you love me.”

                Maze met his eyes, hating how vulnerable she felt but she didn’t deny his words.       

                “I didn’t know if I would ever see you again,” he continued, his voice still unusually quiet.  “And I hated myself thinking I hadn’t said what I should have when you could still hear it.  Maze, I chose you because I love you, and I can’t imagine spending eternity without you by my side."

                She had never thought she would hear those words from him.  The weight of anxiety and fear that had colored all of her actions for years lifted away as she looked into his eyes and knew he told the truth.   

                "The Lord of Hell is nothing without his Queen.”  He leaned down to kiss her, and gathered her into his arms. 

                This time, she stayed there. 


End file.
